The Great Plan
by Servone
Summary: An evil weasel comes to Redwall with a flawless plan....and a superstitious army


[center][i]The Great Plan[/i][/center]  
  
To any other creature of Mossflower woods, it would appear a day like any other. But little did anybeast know that as the hours went by, a creature with evil intentions was making his way towards the peaceful Redwall Abbey with the largest army of vermin of to ever set paw in Mossflower country.  
  
Nosferrat Synnclaw was coming. The treacherous weasel had spent almost his entire life listening to tales of other vermin who had come to Redwall before, the same purpose in mind for the Abbey. But Nosferrat knew he was different from these creatures. They were failures…all of them. Nosferrat would seize the day. He had listened to the stories and had noted the failures of the warlords who fell to the creatures who resided in Redwall. Out of their failures, he had formed a sure fire strategy in seizing the abbey and making it his own castle. Victory was so certain to Nosferrat he could taste it….  
  
Nosferrat was a rather strong looking weasel. He stood head and shoulder over all his army. He wore armor as black as the night with a flowing red cape that was as red as the blood he hoped to shed with his sword. The weasel was so confident of his plan, a smile or the hint of a smile was always on his face. His brain had ran over the plan millions of times in his head. He had smoothed out any flaws that there had been to the point of precision. He had also run through any possible obstacles that may get in the way and had found ways to eliminate them with no problem. Nosferrat's plan was formed to perfection…. save for one problem…his army. Each and everyone one of the vermin under his lead had heard the same stories that Nosferrat had. However, they did not see things in the same light. They were terrified of this mission and deep down felt it was doomed. However, Nosferret used his golden tongue to persuade the lot to join him…. victory had been guaranteed to all. Now, as they got closer to their destiny, their fears returned full force….  
  
Nosferatt stopped in his tracks and sniffed the pleasant springtime air of Mossflower.  
  
"Do you smell that, Flinchclaw?" the weasel sighed, "Take a good whiff of it…. it's the smell of victory! Listen to that noise…what do you hear?"  
  
Flinchclaw the fox, who was second in command of the army, listened for a moment and simply shrugged.  
  
"It's just the birds, chief."  
  
"No no no," Nosferatt shook his head, "That sound…. it's the calm before the storm, my bucko…. soon the air will be filled with the screams of those Redwall fools!"  
  
Nosferatt threw back his head and laughed at the certain victory that awaited him.  
  
As his leader gloated, Flinchclaw turned to a nearby rat with a look of worry in his eyes. The rat shared his worry and was shaking like a leaf.  
  
"Onward, mates!" Nosferatt said as he wrapped his claw around his sword hilt, "I shall lead you to victory!"  
  
Nosferatt drew his sword and strode proudly down the path that lead to Redwall abbey. Flinchclaw turned to face the hundreds and hundreds of vermin that stood waiting.  
  
"Right then, mates," the fox swallowed hard, his voice cracking as he spoke his last words to them, "Onward to…. R-redwall…"  
  
Nosferatt held up a paw as they reached the opening of the forest. His eyes were alight and his smile as wide as anybeast had seen it.  
  
"At last," he whispered, "Redwall!"  
  
Nosferatt began to walk slowly towards the massive red stone walls of Redwall. It was just as he had imagined it in his dreams….his plan would work just right!  
  
Nosferrat turned around to see the considerable amount of space between himself and his army. His eyes went into a dangerous glare as he looked from face to face of each of the soldiers, a picture of fear was painted on each and every one of them. Nosferret gritted his teeth as he stormed over to them. He grabbed the nearest stoat by the collar and lifted him so he was face to face with him.  
  
"What are you afraid of?" He sneered.  
  
"N-n-n-nothing, chief!" the stoat said, forcing a smile on his face.  
  
"Liar!" Nosferrat shouted as he hurled the stoat into some other hordebeasts. The weasel then drew his sword.  
  
"What's the matter with you?" the weasel snarled, "Tell me or I'll hack you to pieces one by one!"  
  
Flinchclaw slinked over to the leader and dropped to all fours.  
  
"Forgive us m'lud," he began as he kissed a footpaw, "But we can't go any further…Redwall…it's a cursed place. Mercy, chief! We'll all meet our ends here!"  
  
Nosferrat stood still a moment. Flinchclaw bit his lip and cuffed his paws over his head. He had made his master angry and would soon feel his wrath…  
  
To the fox's surprise, the wrath never came. Instead, he heard the laughter of weasel. He dared a glance upward and saw that Nosferrat was indeed laughing. He sheathed his sword once again and leaned himself up against a nearby tree.  
  
"You superstitious lot of fuddy-duds!" the weasel said as he shook his head, "What do you have in those heads of yours? Brains made of stone? No…. even a stone can see how ridiculous you are acting! You must have brains made of seaweed! You bunch of fools…you call yourselves warriors…afraid of an abbey full of peacelovers… they can't defeat us… by Hellsgates….they can't even hurt us!"  
  
"Try tellin' that to Cluny," a rat said out of the side of his mouth to a weasel companion, "Or…"  
  
Before the rat could give another example Nosferrat had grabbed him and pulled him close.  
  
"Cluny was a fool!" Nosferrat sneered, "That's why he's dead….well, even if he did live, he'd be dead now, but that's besides the point… Cluny died because he was a fool and I'm sticking to that… he was superstitious... just like you…and look where his superstitions lead him…"  
  
Nosferrat dropped the rat.  
  
"To an early grave," he continued, "Squashed like an insect!"  
  
Nosferrat's eyes shifted across the still terrified faces of his army. He pointed at a stoat.  
  
"You!" he shouted, "Gutblud…why are you scared of this place? I told you all that I had a fool proof plan…even fools like you can do it right…."  
  
"G-g-g-g-g," the stoat stammered.  
  
"Spit it out, stoat," Nosferrat said with a roll of his eyes, "By the time you get the words out, the abbey dwellers will have died of old age.."  
  
"Ghost!" Gutlblud shouted.  
  
"Ghost?" Nosferrat laughed until tears went down his eyes, "You really believe that old mousewives tale? That's just superstitious mumbo jumbo… there are no such things as ghosts…. The very idea of Martin the Warrior protecting Redwall from beyond the grave is preposterous! I'm not even sure if Martin the Warrior existed….he may have very well been made up just to scare anybeast who attacked the abbey. Even if there was a spirit that came from beyond the grave, he would not be able to stop us….not with the plan I have. Rest assured, mates, by this time tomorrow we shall be feasting in Redwall Abbey's great hall and those that we let live…why, they'll be our slaves! It's perfect!"  
  
With that, Nosferrat threw back his head once more and laughed like a madbeast. The speech seemed to gather some confidence to the rest of the army and they too joined their leader in a laugh.  
  
Suddenly, Nosferrat's laughter went to an abrupt halt. The rest of the horde stopped as well as their leader began to stagger towards them.  
  
Flinchclaw caught the weasel as he fell limply into his arms. Flinchclaw's eyes were as wide as saucers as he dropped the weasel. An arrow had planted itself into the neck of Nosferrat.  
  
The fox let out a scream, turned face, and ran, pushing away any hordesbeasts that got in the way. The rest of the horde gathered around to inspect their dead leader.  
  
"It's the curse of Redwall!" Gutblud exclaimed, "It's a warnin! Run fer yer lives if ye want to see another day!"  
  
There was not a member of the army who stayed around after that. Every last one of them took off away from Redwall as fast as their footpaws would carry them, never once looking back. Certain that if they did, they'd meet the same fate as their leader….  
  
In the courtyard of Redwall, three young friends stood, a squirrel, a mousemaid, and a mole, stood their eyes glued towards the sky. The squirrel's jaw was dropped as he held a bow in his paws.  
  
"Moi word" the mole said as he shook his head, "Oi bet 'ill never come down…"  
  
"Rootclaw's right," the mousemaid said, "You've done it this time, Marcus Highclimb! What's Brother Owen going to say when he sees one the arrows is missing? After he told us not to play with them anymore..."  
  
"I'd say that I'm very disappointed in you," a voice behind the young friends said.  
  
The three turned around to see a big mouse, a stern look on his face and his paws upon his hips.  
  
"I'm sorry, sir," Marcus sighed as he lowered his head, shifting a paw innocently.  
  
"Bur aye," Rootclaw said as he tugged his snout, "We be dreadfurly sorry…"  
  
"Well you should be," Owen snapped as he snatched the bow from Marcus's paws, "Shooting arrows around like madbeasts… And you, Lilac….I must say this is very unladylike for you!"  
  
"I'll have you know," Lilac said as she tilted her nose skywards in a look of injured dignity, "I had no part in all of these silly games…"  
  
"Is that so?" Owen could not help but chuckle, "Then it must have been some other mousemaid I saw who shot an arrow in the side of that barrel over there. She looked just like you."  
  
Lilac blushed as she looked over at the barrel.  
  
"Well," she said, giving a nervous giggle, "You have to admit…it was a very good shot."  
  
In a trice, Brother Owen took an ear of both the squirrel and the mousemaid. The two squirmed as he pinched harder on them.  
  
"Come along now," Brother Owen said, "There are plenty of pots and pans that need you three to wash them. And after I'm satisfied with the job you've done on them, it's off to the gatehouse where you will alphabetize all of the scrolls and books…."  
  
Brother Owen continued to go through the list of chores as he pulled the two towards the kitchen with their mole friend following close behind. At last he reached the kitchen and let go of the two wrongdoers.  
  
"And then you will read all of Brother Methuselah's scrolls and write me everything you've learned from that period of time of Redwall's history. Any questions?"  
  
"One sir," Marcus moaned as he rubbed his aching ear, "Why are we being punished so badly?"  
  
"This is the only way for you to learn your lesson," Brother Owen said in a lecturing tone, " This is the third time this has happened…You need to learn that bows and arrows are not toys. They are very dangerous weapons. You can easily put somebeast's eye out…or worse." 


End file.
